Monster in the Moonlight by Willow Thyme

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I passed the ‘fairy' toadstools and the dryad tree. The circle of roses I once found so amazingly beautiful on my long visits down here now seemed alarmingly evil and they reached violently for me, brandishing destructive thorns. I never thought the flower itself could look vicious but in the dark of the night the powerful red deepened to a blackened crimson. It looked as if pure white roses had been dipped in blood, making them sinful and twisted. The sinister flower looked utterly immortal. It turned my stomach. Every beautiful and steady part of my life was now turned putrid and sick. Corrupt.
I pushed through a nasty patch of stinging nettles into a clearing and collapsed to the floor. Oh thank God. Safety. I wept with relief. I sank my fingers into the ground, as a desperate attempt to stay safe, not to be taken away, ever. Curled up on my side I turned my eyes upward. The moon shone on me, creating a protective ring around the clearing. Old magic. No creature could enter as long as the moon shone. And the stars accompanied the perfect moon, being my witness, the many eyes of the night, staring down at my frail form.
The earth seemed to pull every last ounce of energy from me and my lids dropped, drifting into unconsciousness. I silently prayed, prayed to anyone who would listen. I prayed thanks, thanks for my life.
My head felt like it was under water, the sounds of the night echoed and muffled. I knew sleep was coming. I knew it was coming and I gave into it completely when it pulled at me. I gave in so willingly and gratefully that I nearly missed the harsh pounding that did not belong to the night...

~*~

The night is a curious thing. True colours are shown in the brilliance of the night. The darkness is let wild and the creatures free to hunt. And hunt they will.
Humans are a rare delicacy in the night. The darkness makes their souls quake in fear. Every beast longed for a human, the blood so bittersweet and that succulent aroma of fear throws them over the edge. Yes, a human is a rare catch, a rare catch indeed. To find one so young and exquisite was delicious. And she was all mine.
I'd claimed her name, her body, her soul. She had handed them willingly to me, practically throwing her pretty white neck at my fangs. It was so perfect it almost hurt. And this persistent chase she kept up, though utterly useless, worked my appetite more. There's no way I could refuse her. Even her aura screamed out for me to take her. Just the thought of her made my jaw ache. I licked my fangs, the smooth, deadly points pressing against my tongue. I sighed with lust, the smell of her blood driving me wild. In one swift movement I disintegrated into shadows and travelled silently through the night.
I ceased to exist and instead became one with everything. Flying weightlessly, I curled around trees and slipped effortlessly and timelessly towards my prey.
I was born from the darkness once again. My feet touched the ground seconds after I had left my corporeal form. From there I pursued the pathetic child I longed for. To play by her human rules just made the hunt that much more delectable.